In Cities which she built, let Pallas Reign;
Tow'rs are for Gods, but Forests for the Swain.90
The greedy Lyoness the Wolf pursues,
The Wolf the Kid, the wanton Kid the Browze:
Alexis thou art chas'd by Corydon;
All follow sev'ral Games, and each his own.
See from afar the Fields no longer smoke,95
The sweating Steers unharnass'd from the Yoke,
Bring, as in Triumph, back the crooked Plough;
The Shadows lengthen as the Sun goes low.
Cool Breezes now the raging Heats remove;
Ah, cruel Heaven! that made no Cure for Love!100
I wish for balmy Sleep, but wish in vain:
Love has no bounds in Pleasure, or in Pain.
What frenzy, Shepherd, has thy Soul possess'd,
Thy Vinyard lyes half prun'd, and half undress'd.
Quench, Corydon, thy long unanswer'd fire:105
Mind what the common wants of Life require.
On Willow Twigs employ thy weaving care:
And find an easier Love, tho' not so fair.
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